Do Ballers Dream of Electric Hoops?
by davampireprince42069
Summary: They flew high, it wasn't a lie. They were ballin.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Tyranny in the World of Men

"William!" William nearly dropped his big ass bagel when he heard Mr. Sheffield call him. He only used his first name when he was in deep trouble. Did he mix the colors with the whites (laundry not people)? Did Maxwell find out he had been looking up cool pics on his work computer?

He often found himself remembering days long past; before he became the Nanny named William. It had been a different time, when a man would spend hours on the court dunking and jiving; playing pick-up games until the sun went down and you couldn't see anything but the white of a man's Nikes. Before the fame and the money, when it was all about the slams and the jams.

"Best not keep him waiting." Niles reminded him, snapping him out of his old recollections. "Fuck you Niles! How about I slap your shit? Fuck off. Fuck you." and Will slapped a tray with a tea pot on it out of Niles hands. "Pick it up! I hate you!"

William screeched and ran to Maxwell's office. "Oh geez, I've really done it this time!" he thought to himself, nervously playing with the bottom of his plain white-t. "I'm going to get fired for sure!" William tugged his fashionable baller shorts up to show his sweet ample thighs.

When William entered Maxwell's office he was holding back the tears. "Mr. Sheffield, I-" "No buts, William! Tell me what this is." Maxwell slammed a basketball onto his desk and glared at Will who stated the obvious. "Yes, I bloody know it's a basketball! It's that this basketball is very special, very rare and highly illegal! What's it doing in my bloody house!"

"Oh, shit..." William trailed off. Did he-Was he here?

"Sir, I believe we have company-oh shit!" Niles screamed from behind the door.

A motorcycle burst through Mr. Sheffield's door and came to a screeching halt in his office. A tall, muscular man hopped off the bike as it stopped in one fluid motion. He looked weathered and drawn. He had the look of a man who's seen and done too much. As the exhaust from the bike dissipated Williams suspicions were confirmed.

"It's the Ultimate B-Ball, used in the greatest game mankind ever witnessed. The Space Jam."

"Wiiiiiiiiiirth!" 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: As I Reach Up (the distance between earth and the stars)

"Oh , ma petite fleur . Il est si bon de vous voir une fois de plus . Vous l' ge comme le bon vin ."

"Who are you? Get out of my house!" "Calm down, Maxwell. I know who he is." Williams eyes lazily traced the outline of the man before him. It was the physique of a man he knew well; perhaps too well. He had spent too many nights laying awake and staring at the ceiling waiting for the day this son of a bitch would show his face.

"Wirth. It's been awhile." He shuddered remembering everything Wirth had done for him; and too him. The pain and ecstasy came back into his body, unable to mix like oil and water; a terrible turmoil. "I'm guessing this-" he motioned towards the basketball "is what you are here for." "Yes...I wish I had came back under better circumstances but..." "Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up! What business do you have to come find me?"

Mr. Sheffield, up until that point had been listening quietly but couldn't remain silent any longer. "Mr. King, I want to know what this man is doing here now! I've got a production going on Broadway in 24 hours and the last thing I need is some...some hooligan bursting into my home and disrupting my affairs!"

What the man had to say made Mr. Sheffield and William silent.

"It's the Monstars. They came back. For one final game. That ball is the B-Ball used in the original Space Jam. I've come for it and I've come for you, Will."

"Take your fucking ball and go home. I swore on the court, in the blood of the ballers we lost, that I would never play another god damn game." William grabbed the ball off Mr. Sheffields desk and threw it to Wirth. "This isn't the time to bring up old shit, Will. We took them on once and we will take them on again." "The past? You wanna talk about the past, Wirth? You've spent the last 20 years in the god damn past! We're not young anymore! Balling is a young mans game. We can't hustle the court like we used to; we can't dunk like we don't give a fuck anymore. You go find yourself some fresh meat; some young knuckleheads who don't know shit about shit and teach them the game."

"Don't go out like a bitch, man! You think I don't know my game is gone? I see...I see young niggas on the court who take my breath away. They jive me, they bob and weave around me like I'm a fucking pole in the ground. Every game I play takes more out of me, takes a little bit of my life away! I do it, not because I want to but because I need to. The air in this ball runs in my veins as strong as it ever did, like it does in you." 


End file.
